Guardian Angels
by QueenBitchass
Summary: Ariella was a Guardian Angel who abdicated from Heaven over two hundred years ago, and managed to stay out of any angel business until now, being dragged back into it by Castiel, who leaves her with Sam and Dean for her own safety while Heaven collapses into civil war. As she travels with them, she drinks, and eventually she tips the balance. OC&Castiel friendship mostly
1. Chapter 1

It was the natural order of things. There were monsters, there were demons, there were angels, and there were hunters. Not that many hunters believed in angels. Which was just another facet of the universe.

Ariella liked to think of herself as a big ass crack in the metaphysical crystal of said universe.

"So do you usually drink this much on Tuesday nights?" asked the bartender, as Ariella threw back the last of a glass of scotch, the ice hitting her nose.

"Huh. Thought it was Thursday. Feels like a Thursday." She ignored the bartender's look of confusion, and just rested her forehead on the cool, glassy bar. She reluctantly got up, leaving a wad of cash by the mess of empty glasses before exiting the bar.

"Ariella," A gruff, raspy voice came from behind her.

"Damn. How is it NOT Thursday?" she whined, turning to face who she immediately recognized as Castiel, both from the aura of his grace and the general cluelessness he had about him. Plus, his tie was backwards, with the tag showing.

"I do not understand. What does the particular day of the week have to do with anything?" Castiel asked.

Ariella snorted at Castiel's confused expression, face tilted to the side. She walked up to him to undo his tie and fix it back the right way.

"So, Castiel. May I ask what the hell is it you want so bad that you came to a bar, at three in the morning, in Illinois? Last I heard you were in charge of some other angels in the Garrison, all high and mighty and important and such. Certainly not concerned with an angel that ran away long ago."

"Well, no. Not exactly."

"Well, what then?"

"I assume you are aware of the fact that the apocalypse almost occurred, and was averted."

"Yes. How'd that happen, anyway? That is some serious bad juju you're gonna get on you," Ariella slurred as she finished with Castiel's tie, and backed away, almost toppling off of the curb.

"Are you intoxicated?"

"Yeah. A little. I should really get home," Ariella said, swaying.

"Where is your home?" Castiel asked, almost sounding concerned.

"I...uh...can't remember. The Bronx, maybe. No, wait. Wrong city. Right?"

"What's a Bronx?" Castiel's face was twisted with confusion.

"Oh fuck it. I'll just sleep here." Ariella dropped to the curb, leaning uncomfortably against a stop sign.

"That doesn't seem like it's what people do."

"Oh, look who knows everything about humans all of a sudden."

"Well, there has been someone who has been teaching me more about how humans behave. He says I need help with my people skills."

"Well, that's definitely true. This guys sounds like a damn miracle maker to have gotten you to know anything." She slumped over into a less uncomfortable position, not that it helped much.

"Nevertheless, I know that it isn't socially acceptable for you to sleep here."

"At the moment, I really could not care less."

"Let me take you somewhere else, at the least."

"Whatever."

Ariella felt Castiel put his hand on her shoulder, and then the familiar feeling of whisked through the air suroounded by the sound of fluttering wings.

"Oh for the love of- Cas, who is this? You can't just be bringing in random people we don't know to our hotel room!"

"I don't understand? She is an acquaintance of mine. Is this not what you refer to as hospitality?"

"Well yeah, but you don't use our beds for it."

Ariella yawned, and sat up groggily, clumsily getting up from the floor.

"Don't be too mean to him. He's just a kid, for Christ's sake." Ariella looked over at Castiel, who was talking to two taller men, both of which dwarfed him significantly. "Especially next to you two. Wow, Castiel. What kind of tiny vessel did you get?"

Castiel turned to look at her, eyes squinted.

"You are one to be saying anything. Your vessel does not exactly exude a sense of propriety."

"Hey now. She was begging for forgiveness when I came to her. She was about to end it all. With me occupying her body, she's basically curled up in a quilt and sleeping."

"For how long, then?"

"This one I'm particularly fond of. I've been here for about two hundred years."

"And she hasn't worn down at all?" Castiel asked, slightly incredulous.

"Not really. I kind of believe she's just holding up so she can watch me try on clothes all the time. She especially loved the 20's. Very fond of flappers, I recall."

"What the hell are you two going on about?" asked the shorter of the two men.

"Nothing important," Ariella said, standing slowly, stretching and cracking her back, and with a loud flutter, extended her wings, something nobody else in the room was expecting.

"What in the hell?" The shorter of the two men yelled, jumping backwards by a foot.

Ariella's wings were huge, due to her age, bigger than Castiel's even. They were a very similar colour, however, black, and glistening a spectrum of colours, like motor oil. As she stretched, they brushed the walls and ceiling, coming very close to touching the two men, who edged away uncomfortably. Castiel just looked at her, stone faced, until she retracted them again, hiding them away.

"You know you aren't supposed to do that in front of humans, Ariella."

"Sorry." Ariella dropped her head and flopped down on one of the beds. "I'm not used to being around this many people when I'm drunk," she said with a glare aimed in Castiel's direction.

"What the- Cas? Who is this?"

"Dean, this is Ariella. She is an...acquaintance of mine."

Ariella was born not that long before Castiel. She was one of very few angels not destined to be in the Garrison, or to be a soldier. She was supposed to go to Earth to give joy. She spent her time growing up watching the younger angels, to learn her duties as a guardian angel. Ariella, frankly, was always disgusted by the other angels her age, who paraded around heaven with their swords, always sparring and showing off as they passed any female angels. The soldiers tended to be very arrogant and proud, and all too self-possessed. Ariella always wrinkled her nose and turned away as they passed, not wanting to smell the stench of their cocky bravado.

As she grew older, she eventually began to go to Earth, among humans, to carry out her duties as a guardian angel, taking people's pain and suffering, relieving the weight off of their shoulders, and leading them down the right path. It made her happy to make other people happy, as cliche as it sounded. And she did her job well, for thousands and thousands of years, as humans evolved from simple Homo Sapiens, to the first wheel, to the great Sphinx in Egypt, to Columbus discovering America. It was right about then that Ariella began to feel weary, began to doubt her duties, began to wonder if humanity was even worth guiding in the right direction. Because no matter how hard she tried to get them to make the right decision, people would always do something terrible, something nasty. In the late 18th century, when France was falling to pieces and slavery in America was beginning to rear its ugly head, Ariella decided it was high time for her to leave, She could no longer handle the responsibility of humanity, no longer trusted herself to keep humanity's best interest at heart. So, in the end, she left. Abdicated, so to speak. She hid away on Earth for a couple of centuries, until all Hell began to break loose, literally.

"What's with all these rogue angels? Isn't Heaven supposed to be paradise? Sure are a lot of you feathery jerks jumping ship," said Dean, about a half hour later when Cas finished explaining and Ariella had somehow nursed her way through a bottle of bourbon, still lounging on Dean's bed.

Cas tilted his head, showcasing his trademark expression of general confusion.

"He means that many angels have left heaven," Ariella translated for Cas.

"Well, duh," Dean said with exasperation, "Now will you get off of my bed?"

"Oh, bite me, mister-leather-jacket-man. I'm not moving until I'm so wasted I have to all-out beg you to move me somewhere else."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Doesn't have to, I'm drinking."

"Yeah. MY bourbon."

"What was your bourbon, and is now your empty bottle," Ariella retorted with a snort, tossing the drained bottle to the floor.

"Whatever. So, she's your buddy-buddy or something. Why is she here?" Dean asked of Cas, who sighed and sat a the foot of the bed.

"Since the overturn of plan for the apocalypse, Heaven has been launched into what seems much like a civil war. Raphael has ordered for all rogue angels to either be brought in, or executed. There are very few of these rogue angels, even fewer left. I only know of three besides Ariella and Gabriel. I am still unaware of Gabriel's whereabouts. I brought her here, because I want for her to be...safe. And yourself and Sam seem to be the most adept at protecting others. I am asking for you to keep Ariella safe."

"Oh really? You wanna keep her safe? Does our little Cassy like this lady?"

Ariella snorted as she shoved herself up from the bed, rummaging around to find another bottle, this time Tennessee whiskey. "No. Didn't we mention I was an angel babysitter? I took care of Castiel here when he was very young. You should have seen him. He had the most beautiful eyes, and always looked so serious. That and he like to run around ass naked."

"Ariella, I hardly see how that is relevant-" Castiel stammered, cheeks blazing red as Dean nearly collapsed out of his chair with laughter, Sam snickering from behind his laptop across the room.

"It's totally relevant, seeing as Dean-o here thought you were crushing on me, and I'm pretty much your big sister, and know for a fact that you have never had a crush on anyone, and you are still as pure as the virgin Mary, bless her heart," Ariella said sarcastically, downing another gulp of whiskey. "And that, my dear sweet Castiel, is why you are still a virgin." Her continued ramblings just sent Sam and Dean into more peals of laughter, as Castiel just blushed harder and harder.

"Oh hush it, boys. Sam was a virgin till he was 20. Dean isn't as much as a man slut as you would assume. You two are actually quite virtuous for a couple of men constantly driving cross-country with no attachments."

"Oi, Sammy!" Dean teased, as Sam took his turn turning bright red.

"How do you even know that?" the gargantuan brunette asked.

"Guardian angel. I just know these things. I've long since stopped questioning the flow of info I get," Ariella shrugged and flopped back on the bed. "So just tell dear Castiel here that you can't coddle me so I can go?"

"No. Dean, you must keep her protected. She cannot be killed, and cannot be taken in by Raphael."

"Oh, for the love of God, Castiel. I'm an angel here too. I can take care of myself."

"Ariella, you do nothing but drink all day and reek of alcohol. You can no more take care of yourself than you can walk in a straight line to the door."

"Yeah well, in that case, what would anyone want with me?"

"That doesn't matter. But you are staying here, where Sam and Dean can watch over you."

Ariella chuckled at the irony. "Like my own two personal guardian angels."

With a last chug of the remnants of the bottle of whiskey, she turned over in the bed and let herself fall asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next time she woke up, Ariella was alone in the shabby motel room. From her place on the bed, she looked around the room to see the table strewn with open notebooks, ancient library books, and a couple of laptops. The floor was littered with dirty clothes, and a duffel bag of bags was lying open on Sam's bed. The room reeked of stale alcohol and gunpowder.

"Tch. Hunters."

For all of her time living like a dirty drunk on Earth, Ariella still preferred cleanliness. Not that she was all that good at keeping things clean. But, since she had nothing better to do anyway, she began to gather the clothes on the ground into a pile, and shoving them into a duffel bag after emptying it of guns. Ariella tossed the bag over her shoulder, and disappeared. She instantly reappeared in the parking lot of a nearby Laundromat.

Making her way inside, she dug around in her pockets to retrieve some crumpled bills to pay for detergent and machines.

"How often do these boys even do laundry? Oh, that's right. Like never," Ariella muttered to herself, as she loaded the fifth load of laundry.

"Ahaha, oh honey," a woman giggled from behind Ariella. When the angel turned, she saw a middle-aged woman carrying two haphazardly stacked baskets of laundry. "Men never do their own laundry."

"I can see that. I don't think that they even know what's clean or not anymore. Those boys probably just wear whatever smells the least sweaty and disgusting," Ariella scoffed, scrunching her nose and gingerly holding a shirt as far away from her as possible. She dropped it into the washing machine, slamming the lid down. With a small hop, she perched herself on the machine, and faced the other woman.

"So. Who are you cleaning up after?"

"My husband and two sons. We just moved, and haven't got a new washer and dryer yet. Somehow they've got more clothes than I have. And go through them twice as fast."

"Aw, that's kind of sweet. Even if I hate laundry, I love kids."

"Do you have any?"

"No. Not really. But I've looked after more young ones than I can even describe."

The other woman turned to Ariella, having finished loading her laundry. "Have a big family?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Ariella said, cracking a smile. "My name is Ariella."

"Deborah," the woman said, and Ariella shook her extended hand.

For the next hour or so, the two of them traded stories about kids and their shenanigans, and helped each other fold clothes. Ariella liked this part of human life, talking to the kind-hearted people, who just wanted to talk and help others feel happy. Women like Deborah were her favorite.

"Castiel, Gabriel, Rachel, Raphael, all very biblical names."

"Yes ma'am. I grew up in a very religious area. In…um…Texas," Ariella said, and tried to smother the giggle in her throat.

Deborah let out a small laugh too. "Well, anyways, I've got to get back and finish unpacking."

Just as the woman was about to leave, Ariella put her hand on Deborah's shoulder, and looked her in the eyes.

"It's not your fault, what happened. Everyone has accidents. You shouldn't feel responsible." Ariella wrapped the woman in a hug, and in her mind, she could see everything. The house burning, one of her three sons trapped inside, and no one could get in until it was too late. The guilt Deborah felt, that she shouldn't have left the boys home alone, she should have known that something bad would have happened. Ariella held the woman tight, and took some of the guilt, leaving a sense of tranquility. As she let Deborah go, she saw the slightly dazed look in the woman's eyes. And with that Ariella packed up the clean clothes into the bag, and fluttered back to the hotel room.

When she arrived back into the hotel room, both Sam and Dean had returned, looking agitated and confused.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Doing your nasty laundry."

"What? Why?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. I felt like it. And, seriously, how many times do you two re-wear clothes without washing them? This is just disgusting."

"Well, sorry Princess. We don't exactly always have time to stop and wash our clothes every day."

"That's no excuse to wear the same pair of jeans for five days in a row, smart ass," Ariella said, looking at Dean and crinkling her nose. She dumped all of the clothes out of the duffel bag, throwing Sam and Dean's clothes into piles.

"What, no folding?" Dean asked snidely, but setting a beer down on the nightstand next to her.

"Don't push your luck, or I'll turn them all pink." Ariella stuck her tongue out at Dean to emphasize her point, and he just laughed at her before laying down on his bed, chugging at his beer.

"Whatever, Mom."

"Jackass."

"You're the one stuck with us."

"Please. I'm a pure joy to have around. I drink all of your booze and do all of your laundry. I'm practically a maid."

"We should get you a costume."

"Yeah, you should. I'm sure Sam would love to see you parade around in it for a day. You could work it with that perky little butt of yours."

Dean choked on his beer, and Sam broke down with laughter. Ariella smiled smugly.

"I think I like this girl," Sam said through his laughter, raising his beer in her direction.

"Sammy! Against your own brother?"

"Well, Dean, can you blame him? All men fall for the maid. Haven't you been watching Dr. Sexy?"

"N-no! Not regularly anything. Just like. When it comes on. And there's nothing else to watch," Dean's cheeks were flaming red, and he took another swig of his beer, embarrassed. Ariella just smiled at him, before throwing him a fresh shirt and boxers.

"Now I suggest you change, because you smell like gasoline and salt. You too, Sam."

They each took turns changing in the bathroom, grumbling at being told what to do. Ariella, not being too concerned, downed her beer quickly, and popped open another one before sitting down in front of Sam's laptop. She casually surfed the internet, bored.

Ariella, usually, would not have hung around at all. What were two hunters going to do to keep her, an angel, captive in their hotel room? In any other situation, she would be miles away, alone, steadily drinking a bar dry. She only stayed for Castiel.

When Ariella was much, much younger, she had taken care of Castiel as a young child, and had remained protective over him well past the normal age for him to be independent. She knew that she and Gabriel had formed a strong bond with Castiel, rather like mother and father figures to the young angel. She always thought of herself as his big sister, from the day she had slapped a soldier full in the face for teasing Castiel for his small wings, to the day when Castiel became a soldier himself, and his wings easily dwarfed many of his peers. She was always irrationally proud of him. Later, when she was among humans, she could feel him checking on her frequently, along with Gabriel. Brothers were always protective of their sisters, especially the soldiers, who were prone to thinking guardians were weaker.

When Ariella had first abdicated from Heaven, she had had to carefully hide away from Castiel as he searched for her. He hadn't willfully given up his search, not at all. After about a dozen years, she heard that Zachariah had ordered Cas to stop looking, or be prepared to execute Ariella when he found her. After all, what good was a rogue guardian angel? Nothing. So Castiel stopped looking, Ariella stopped hiding, and buried her angel sword deep underground, then spent the next two hundred years drowning herself in liquor and traveling the world like an eccentric teenager. But none of that meant she had stopped checking up on her brother. As a guardian angel, she was practically unnoticeable, discreet. She sometimes hid in the shadows of Heaven to watch Castiel as he accepted his role as a general in the Garrison, or would watch from Earth as other angels would flirt with him shamelessly. Not that he picked up on any of it at all.

But when he was sent to retrieve a soul from Hell, Ariella knew something big was going to happen, and she should stop watching, or it would just break her heart. It would just break her heart to see her little baby brother have to fight. She should be proud, she knew, and she sort of was, but also she was disappointed that such an innocent angel had to fight so bloody a war. So Ariella just left it alone, and dove right back into the alcohol.

When Castiel had come out of nowhere on that street corner, Ariella had been drinking heavily, and steadily. As far as she could remember, she'd been drinking for a few days straight to get that intoxicated, that she would almost fall asleep on a curb. And she hadn't been more than a day or two without downing at least five bottles for as long as she could remember, her memory completely befuddled by the booze. So when she went with him, she was too tired to refuse, and now she didn't want to. She could tell he was stressed about so many things, and if staying with these boys was going to relieve some of that stress, she would do it for Castiel.

But now that her mind was slowly clearing from the drinking fog, her senses as a guardian angel were slowly coming back to her. A full day with no more than two bottles of liquor and a couple of beers, and Ariella could feel the tiny little nuances of people as they moved around her, their worries, their stress, their intentions, inhibitions, goals, hopes, fears,likes,dislikes. Everything, pulling slightly at her from every direction, not unpleasantly. It was easy to ignore, but it was the sense of guilt that Ariella had herself from leaving people to fend for themselves that bit at her mind. But the guilt was matched by the fact that she just didn't see it as her problem anymore.

So she sat in the Winchester's crappy motel room, slowly burning her way through two six-packs of beers, spending the hours fooling around uselessly on Sam's laptop while the brothers slept.

When the boys woke up, Ariella was strolling in through the door, laden down with bags of fast food.

"Morning Jackass, Sasquatch," she said with a cheery smile, tossing each of them a bag with a McDonald's logo emblazoned across the front. She jumped onto the foot of Dean's bed, as she dug into her own food.

"I thought angels didn't need to eat food?" Sam asked quizzically. Dean, his mouth already full, gave her the same look.

"Well, I've been on Earth for quite a while. I guess I've just developed a taste for human food. Who wouldn't? Burgers are absolutely delicious."

Dean nudged her with his foot, and held his hand out for a fist bump. Ariella snorted and shook her head, but tapped her fist against his nonetheless.

"Are you sure you're an angel? You seem really normal for one of those jerks," Dean said when he finally swallowed.

Ariella smirked, "I'm pretty sure." As she said this, she unfolded her wings in an extravagant display, thudding against the ceiling. Both boys jumped in surprise, and Sam almost choked on his salad fork. She pulled them back in as she took another bite out of her burger, quickly swallowing.

"By the way, I'm a rather particular kind of angel." Ariella plucked a fallen black feather from the floor, and gingerly blew it into Dean's face. He flinched away, but it touched his nose nevertheless.

"Sam, you didn't lose your red hoodie, I actually threw it away because it looked stupid," Dean blurted.

"What?"

Ariella smiled. "I can technically guide people into doing the right thing. In this case, it's telling Sam you trashed his hoodie because you found it atrocious."

"You little-"

"Oh, be quiet and eat. You know he would've found out anyway."

Dean grumbled to himself, and angrily bit into his bacon burger.

"That is...awesome. How-"

"I know, Sam. I know."

Ariella let the brothers finish, before making sure they were packed, and also that they left their room in the same condition they got it in. Then, she piled in the car with them, and sat in the backseat as they traveled to their next job with her in tow.


	3. Chapter 3

Ariella groaned from the backseat of the Impala.

"Dean. Do you have anything else besides fucking Metallica tapes?" She half-screeched over the blaring guitar solo.

"Nope. Nothing at all," Sam answered, as Dean steadily ignored the two of them, beating out the bassline on his steering wheel.

"I swear to God, I am going to change all of his tapes to the My Little Pony theme song and Harry Potter audiobooks."

"I'll pay you. Anything. Please. Just do it," Sam said. A smile crept along Ariella's face, as the metal rock abruptly stopped, replaced with the voice of a man beginning the first chapter of "Prisoner of Azkaban."

It was all Ariella could do not to piss herself as Dean stared incredulously at his stereo, nearly losing control of the car for a second or two in his complete and utter shock. "What in the hell-"

"Shoulda turned it down, Dean," Sam managed to say through his laughter, as Ariella broke down in the backseat. "Dude, no! Not my tapes!" Dean cried, frantically smashing buttons on the stereo. Sam and Ariella practically had tears running down their cheeks.

"Dean, Dean, honey. Don't crash the car," Ariella said, and the tapes switched back to a guitar riff. Dean calmed down quickly.

"Not cool, man. Not cool," he said, but turned the music down anyways.

It was with a stretch and a groan that Ariella collapsed on another stiff motel bed with another set of itchy, atrocious blankets. Sam and Dean followed her in quickly, getting settled easily in the small hotel room. As Sam settled down behind at the small table with his laptop, Dean sat on the bed opposite of Ariella, cleaning and checking each gun and various other weapons. The rythmic clicking and clinking sounds lulled Ariella half to sleep.

"I thought angels didn't need sleep," Dean said. "I've been on Earth a long time, honey. I'm probably just a little more human than I used to be. I don't necessarily need to sleep, but it's definitely more satisfying than sitting around on my ass while everyone else is sleeping. Anyways, since I'm not a soldier, I'm a significantly different sort of thing than you've ever come across."

"So what? You more delicate or something?"

Ariella shot Dean a glare so scathingly cold, he actually almost dropped the half assembled sawn off in his hands. "Definitely not. Just more subtle, and a hell of a lot less of a dickwad. Angels like me aren't the kind to brazenly storm in, put our asses on the line, kick you to hell, and run you through with an angel sword. Not that a guardian angel would ever be called on to fight. Guardian angels are supposed to guide you, and help you to make the decision that is the best, and direct you away from whatever conflict is arising."

"Supposed to?" asked Dean, one eyebrow raised.

"Sometimes things just can't be avoided, particularly things like people committing murder. That sort of thing just has to happen sometimes."

"So you just sit by and watch people kill each other, doing nothing about it?"

"We have to. It would end up that way no matter what. Where there's death, there's always gonna be death. Fate is a serious bitch. Such a prude," Ariella said. She mentally cursed "Fate," the rather annoying blonde priss of an angel. "But isn't it your job to protect people?"

"People are reckless idiots who have little to no concept of their own mortality, and are constantly doing terrible things. So I've given up my life in Paradise so I don't have to deal with people so much. I don't trust myself not to let it all fall to hell."

"Why don't you think you could do your 'job' or whatever?" Sam asked, having gotten curious. "That's a story for another time, Moose," Ariella said. She rolled over and burrowed under the scratchy covers.

"Not her too..Crowley is bad enough...," Sam groaned as Dean chuckled.  
-~- -~- -~-

She woke up hours later to see Castiel standing silently in the middle of the dim hotel room, his silhouette outlined by the quiet television screen lighting up the walls. He looked as awkward as ever. But the real problem was with what Ariella could feel from Castiel's essence. She could feel the turmoil as he stood there, watching over Sam and Dean. Ariella quietly stood, leaving Sam propped up on a pillow, dozing as he faced the TV.  
She wrapped her arms, and wings, around Cas. Even though his vessel's face was as stony and set as ever, she could feel him slowly breaking down in her arms.

"Sshh, Castiel. It's all going to be okay, it'll all be okay," she hummed in his ear, trying to calm him down. But even as she said, she could see that that wasn't all that true.  
Castiel was desperate; too desperate. Although she couldn't see what it was that he was up to, (Castiel was far too well guarded for that) she could tell that it was tearing him apart, wracking him with guilt. Ariella had never known an angel to ever actually feel emotions this intensely, or any emotions at all for that matter, after they were very young.

"Castiel...what is it you're doing, exactly?" Ariella pulled back to look him in his eyes. They were a vibrant, teary blue in the dim light of the flickering television. She could feel his grace trembling inside. There was nothing she could imagine to possibly make a soldier feel this way.

"...Cas?" she whispered. The raven haired angel looked up at her, then turned to glance at the boys woefully. Then, with a shudder and the sound of rustling feather, he was gone. The room was once again silent, except for the quiet snores from the beds. Ariella stared blankly at the spot where Cas had been moments earlier. She was more confused than she wanted to admit. With a sigh, she pulled her wings back in. She felt tired, she felt pained. She only wanted to get away from all of this drama, not get reeled back into it; especially not with Castiel the way he was being. It made her uneasy, worried about every move being made. She tried to clear her head, nestling under the scratchy covers. She turned her back to Sam, and laid there, watching the wall as the sun rose through the blinds. 


End file.
